


Semper Fidelis

by TheFireInHerEyes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fred Weasley Lives, Gen, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Era, Multi, Polyamory, Protective Fred Weasley, Protective George Weasley, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26900110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFireInHerEyes/pseuds/TheFireInHerEyes
Summary: How can you miss someone you’ve never met?They heard the song inside their head, a delicate and graceful melody with somber words. It was the same delicate song that they’d heard over and over again.Fred and George Weasley knew they were hearing whatever song their soulmate was listening to just like they had known their soulmate wasn’t from their universe.“An alternate universe.” Dumbledore said. “A universe without visible magic, a universe where magic has been forced into hiding, for the fears muggles have are great.”Their soulmate could communicate with the songs they were listening to, Fred and George could communicate with partial memories and images of their world.Three souls meant to be as one, separated by a thin veil that kept them all apart.Until the day that their soulmate was ripped through the barrier and thrown into their world headfirst.
Relationships: Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Fred Weasley & George Weasley & Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley/George Weasley/Reader, Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley/Reader, Fred Weasley/You, George Weasley/Reader
Comments: 41
Kudos: 419
Collections: Fics That I Wouldn't Mind Losing Sleep Over





	1. Prologue

As she walks by, what a sight for sore eyes. Brighter than the blue sky, she’s got you mesmerized while I die

The melodic tune filled his head with its sad and slow crooning from whoever sang the song, the message one of heartbreak and jealousy. It almost made George want to roll his eyes and sent his own little message back but it didn’t work like that for them.

For Fred and George, they communicated with their soulmate by sharing little memories of theirs and images of their surroundings.

Their soulmate tortured Fred and George by making them listen to whatever song you were listening to. It hadn’t mattered what hour of the day they were in, if you were listening to music wherever you happened to be, so were they.

It was their connection to their soulmate, somewhere in the a universe that was a mirror to theirs. A universe that was so similar to their own, that all was in between theirs and yours was a thin veil.

That thin veil was why they could hear every song you listened to so clearly.

It’s also why Fred and George were able to share memories or still images of where they were or what they were experiencing. You three were closer than you all expected.

Three souls so close and so desperate to be one.

Three souls scratching and demanding to be brought together like it should’ve been from the beginning.

Dumbledore told the twins and their parents that there would be no way to bridge the gap, to have their soulmate with them until the exact moment that fate had decided upon.

However, he also said that there was more pull in their universe. He said that when the time had come, their soulmate would be going to them and not the other way around.

Fred and George would still have their magic, they would still have their family and their friends.

And they would have you. Hey Jude, don’t make it bad, take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart then you can start to make it better.

All they had to do now was wait.


	2. Chapter 1

There was no right or wrong way to have a soulmate. There was no right or wrong way to be connected to your soulmate.

For some, they had the time they would meet, others had their initials stamped into their skin like a permanent tattoo.

Some could feel their soulmates emotions or physical pain.

Your connection to your soulmates, plural, was a connection through music. Whatever you happened to be listening to or singing would be heard by them, in their head.

You discovered that after you crashed after a long day of being hunched over a desk studying all day for an upcoming entry exam. You had just closed your eyes when a memory that hadn’t belonged to you, had crept into your mind.

It played out on a loop, but like a short film. It was a message from your soulmates, apparently twins. They had shared their first memory of you, or at least hearing what you had been listening to.

They shared the memory of themselves being confused and worried as a song filled their head they had never heard before. The twins had chosen the memory to send to you through your connection, but you couldn’t do the same.

You couldn’t control the songs that were transmitted to them. They made that perfectly clear after a sleepless night had left you up all night blasting the Spice Girls.

Their tired eyes and irritancies next morning had made you a little more cautious to what exactly you listened to and when. If you were going to be up late, you would choose something soothing.

Of course them having the ability to share their memories like dreams and snippets that transformed themselves into little daydreams that stole your attention, wasn’t all they could do apparently.

They could also share images or photographs of their surroundings. A still captured photograph that gave you little insight into what they were doing and where.

From the gathered memories you had of them, you were able to come to a pretty solid conclusion that they were obviously attending a boarding school. Judging from the uniforms, it was a private school and judging from some of the images the private school was tucked away in the mountains.

Or at least that is what you had thought. That’s the impression you got but soon your curiosity got the better of you.

In your spare time between attending university classes and studying until the dreadfully late hours of the night, you tried to track down the school they attended by the snippets of information you had. You tried to track down where they possibly could be, and how to meet them.

You knew a few facts that should’ve helped you track them down, like the fact that they were twins and thanks to a newer memory they’d shared, you knew they were English.

Their accents had come through one of the memories, giving you a big clue as to where they could’ve or would’ve been going to school. You did your research, you asked all the right people, you had even described the uniforms and the grounds they had shown in their shared images.

Your drive to find them and track them down to meet them, turned to frustration. And that turned to trying to be as annoying as possible with your ability to project your music onto them, hoping they would give you more information on how to find them.

You were wrong. If you were trying to be as annoying as possible, they had upped the ante. Somehow they had taken annoying and threw it over a cliff, replaced it with never ending images of disgusting creatures and spiders and bugs.

They had given it to you as well as you’d given it to them. And eventually, you called a truce and backed down from your fight.

You chose momentary peace for the ceasing of images and memories that scared you.

Peace was taken in trade for finding out where your twins were.

♡♡ ♡♡

The first memory of the night while you crashed into bed was bright fireworks in a pitch black sky. The brightly coloured bangs and explosions lit up the darkness like flickers of light streaking across the sky.

You lay back and closed your eyes, watching the memory play out like a movie behind your lashes. You watched the fireworks explode and die, explode and die as laughter deep and rich was heard beneath the layer of the explosions.

Was that one of the twins? Fred or George? Were they with their large family or were they by themselves? Did they have class the morning after or was it their break?

You sang along to the memory, a song that you’d heard on a social media app that couldn’t be taken from your head.

“I’ve spent a thousand nights lost in your emerald eyes. Lost in a place where I know you can see my soul. Make me lose track of time, you and your emerald eyes. Finally found a place that I can call my home.”

The song was beautiful and suit the breathtaking memory that was easily lulling you to sleep. You hadn’t even gotten undressed into your pajamas. You think you even still had your socks on because you couldn’t be bothered to take them off before collapsing into bed.

You hummed the melody as sleep started taking you into its embrace. You were quickly dreaming of Fred and George causing problems in their school in the best way possible.

You were welcomed into sleep by the sound of their laughter and the fireworks, the image of great stone walls and a woman they hated called Umbridge.

You were welcomed into he memory like it was your home, like you were meant to be there. Maybe one day you would.

Maybe one day you’d meet them in real life instead of just memories.

♡♡ ♡♡

Honey, honey, nearly kill me, aha, honey, honey

I’d heard about you before

I wanted to know some more

And now I know what they mean, you’re a love machine

Oh, you make me dizzy

“What are the voices saying now?” Ginny grinned while leaning back in her dining room chair.

“She’s listening to some muggle music. ABBA something….” Fred frowned, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Loudly.” George reached for a piece of toast, shoving it into his mouth so he didn’t curse at the catchy tune and the smooth flowing words playing through their head.

They had been so kind to you the night before, helping you fall asleep on a night that you were clearly stressed on based on your music choices. Either you listened to something with an edge or something that could be played at a funeral.

“They’re a very popular muggle band. Must be popular in their universe too.” Hermione piped up from the end of the table. “I wonder what else is similar between the universes.”

Fred shared a look with his brother, the song still playing in their head, even louder than before. You may not have listened to this song this loud on purpose but if you had, then Fred and George were going to have to send back some retaliation.

In your constant back and forth contact, they had discovered your fear of large spiders and other bugs, and your fear of living plants like the mandrake. You had seen the creature once, and that was all it took for you to silence the music and choose what you listened to carefully.

“Just one look and I can hear a bell ring, one more look and I forget everything. Mamma mia, here I go again. My my, how can I resist you? Mamma mia, does it show again? My my, just how much I’ve missed you?”

Your voice had joined the melody in their heads, your sweet and adorable little crack in your voice that they were particularly fond of, had softened the blow.

“You’re familiar with it are you, Granger?” George learned forward and questioned her with a raised eyebrow. “The band ABBA?”

“They’re from Sweden and they’re famous around the road. It isn’t surprising that your soulmate is listening to them.” Hermione pointed out plainly before taking a sip of her orange juice.

“How does she know bloody everything?” Ron grumbled under his breath. “Know it all.”

“It’s called reading, Ronald.” Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “If you would pick up a book every once and a while you would know-“

Fred stood without speaking and quickly discarded of his dish, with George following behind. Once the dish was out of his hand, Fred nudged George and motioned toward the door leading outside.

“I’ve got the perfect idea for a little revenge.” Fred slinked toward the back door and then stepped outside.

“I’ll grab the brooms.”


	3. Chapter 2

You were quick to discover that your soulmates were aggravatingly annoying. They clearly had the ability to irritate you while being wherever they were in the world by a simple memory or an image of something shared that had just…gotten under your skin.

You had come to the conclusion that Fred and George, you’d found out their last name was Weasley, had a natural ability to annoy everyone around them and they got a kick out of it.

After your last kick listening to ABBA, which if listened to at the wrong time could make them irritated and distracted, they had gotten their version of revenge on you.

Their version of revenge was sharing an image of themselves dangling hundred of feet in the air, with the view of the ground that could surely crush you if you had fallen from that height.

And that was only made worse by your very real fear of heights.

That was the moment you decided to revamp and reactivate your little feud with your soulmates. You may not have been able to share images or memories that scared you, but you had the power of music.

And you had the ability to share whatever music you were singing or listening to with them. You had the ability to get them right back will ill-timed Spice Girls or ABBA, which they so clearly *loved*.

It wasn’t the most productive use of your time, especially when you were supposed to be studying, but you couldn’t resist.

Besides, you were supposed to enjoy the little things in life.

Like irritating the piss out of your soulmates.

♡♡ ♡♡

_IF YOU WANNA BE MY LOVER, YOU GOTTA GET WITH MY FRIENDS_

George slammed the pillow over his head, hearing the same song over and over in his head. Both Fred and himself had a quidditch game later that day, and sleep was precious.

It seemed, however that their soulmate had decided to reinstate the back and forth game of trying to outdo the other. After the ABBA stunt, Fred and George retaliated by showing off the great heights they had to deal with while playing quidditch.

You didn’t like heights, you had a fear of heights. And after they had shown their memory of the heights, taken a still picture with their minds to throw at you, the earworm songs had stopped.

So they thought.

“I can’t handle this, Fred.” George grunt. “Hit me with a hex to knock me out. Please.”

Fred was fairing no better. He had his own pillow shoved over his head like that would help, though he was staring wide eyed at the bed a few feet away from his.

His long fingers were digging into his pillow, his lips pursed in a scowl that would curdle milk if given the opportunity.

“Crafty. Our soulmate is crafty and won’t back down.” Fred sneered before he violently slipped over.

“On par with our own stubbornness.” George felt a moment of peace as the music quit and they were gifted silence.

“Do you think she’s actually done?” George questioned his twin a few feet away. “Or do you think she’ll play the sounds of a screaming goat after?”

Fred didn’t answer, he couldn’t answer.

After the repeating melodic tune of the Spice Girls, another voice was heard. This was your own. Your own singing voice muttering and mumbling to a much more dulcet melody that was soothing.

Fred had closes his eyes and replaced his pillow under his head as he listened to you singing. Your voice wasn’t held in perfect pitch, but Merlin was it beautiful. It was soothing and a welcome change to the Spice Girls or ABBA.

“ _So, before you go was there something I could’ve said to make your heart beat better? If only I’d have known you had a storm to weather. So, before you go was there something I could’ve said to make it all stop hurting? It kills me how your mind can make you feel so worthless So, before you go…_ ” You sang a tune they’d never heard before, but they thoroughly enjoyed.

As Fred and George listened to your voice, the sleep that had been avoiding them because of you, was now welcomed.

By your voice, your gentle and slightly cracking voice, they were welcomed into sleep like a warm friend. They had just a slip of time to share their thank you through the memory that had just formed.

♡♡ ♡♡

“You annoy them and then you take pity on them? What is this? A cycle of torture?” Your study partner whispered in the quiet library.

She too had a soulmate, though the method to find hers was rather simple compared to yours. She had the date she would meet her soulmate etched onto her ring finger, almost like it was a replacement for a promise ring.

“I felt bad. Apparently they had a game later that day.” You mumbled moving your attention toward the textbook in front of you to the notebook where your chicken scratch was.

“So you decide to annoy them, they retaliate by making you look at spiders and creatures that are…odd. You get revenge by playing ear worms, they get revenge for that by showing great heights and then you get them back with the Spice Girls only to feel bad?” she shook her head.

“I know it seems like a vicious cycle but this is just.. kind of our thing?” You shrugged.

“And yet you have no idea where they are or what school they go to?” Your study partner looked pointedly at you.

“No,” you sighed. “I’ve tried.”

“Tell me the facts, maybe I could help.” She closed her book and set it aside, the conversation you were having now was clearly so much better than the schematics of early aircraft.

“Okay well I know that they’re English first of all. I’ve heard them talking in their memories.” You had followed suit and closed your own book, pushing it aside like she had.

“God, you’re lucky! English twins? English accents are so hot!” She rest her elbow on the library desk, and then rest her chin in her palm.

“And their voices are so deep. I mean my favorite thing about them may actually be listening to them speak.” You sighed wistfully.

“What are their names?” She leaned forward, heavily interested in your soulmate story as it unfolded.

“Fred and George Weasley. English twins who go to a private school and wear uniforms.” Your cheeks flush and a soft giggle nearly escaped your throat.

“And they’re athletes to boot.” She added a very important point.

“I’ve tried to find the school, tried to search for any school in England that’s private and tucked away in the mountains. But the thing is, I think their uniforms are all different. Or at least different colours.” You almost drew within your own head while wracking your brain.

“In the one memory, I saw the same kind of uniform but these were silver and green, and the ones Fred and George wore were gold and red.” You frowned.

“That’s strange.” Your study partner added. “So no luck huh?”

“Not yet. But I have a good feeling that things are getting close to a head. I mean hopefully I’ll be able to meet them soon.” You started gathering your textbooks and notebooks.

“So you can kiss them or hit them?” as you were gathering your things, so did she.

“Both.” You admitted far too quickly with far too much vigor.

Though it was no secret that Fred and George Weasley were devilishly handsome with their brown eyes and flaming red hair, a brief scattering of freckles across their cheeks and the bridge of their nose. They were both taller than you had imagined when you saw a memory of them standing next to one of their siblings, and the twins being a head and a half taller.

“Someone’s in love.” She nudged you and laughed, bidding you a good exam day before she departed from you.

After you were left alone, a memory that wasn’t yours invaded your mind of a great and towering height and one of their feet dangling in mid air.

“Again?” you muttered. “Thanks, Weasley’s.“


	4. Chapter 3

“ _Even when she hears his voice, she’s swarmed with butterflies. It’s impossible to get you off my mind, I think about a hundred thoughts and you are 99. I’ve understood that you will never be mine, and that’s fine, I’m just breaking inside._ ”

Fred was first alerted to the tone in your voice as you sang along to the dad melody, the melancholy loneliness in your voice stirring empathy in both of them.

You must’ve been so lonely, knowing that your soulmates were so far away, dreaming of you in the same way that you’ve been dreaming of them. You must’ve wanted them as badly as they wanted you.

It wasn’t such a terrible feeling, the loneliness when they were younger. But the older they got, the more it seemed they needed you and wanted you.

Sure, it was fun to play a little game of who could outdo the other, but beyond the playfulness there was an ache. There was a distinct calling to be with their soulmates, with the one who would fit perfectly with them.

“ _One day, maybe she’ll stay, and start to head over his way. And one day, she’ll look into his eyes, and instead of breaking, she’ll call him mine. One day, he’ll grab her by the waist, and force them to meet face to face. One day, he’ll look into her eyes, and say that, “You’re my only light”._ ”

Their parents were soulmates, Bill and Fleur were soulmates, Percy and Natalie were soulmates. They had all been perfectly imperfect for each other.

Fred and George wanted that, but until now they hadn’t had the chance to even see you. Until they decided to seek out the mirror of Erised, they were left in the dark save for hearing your voice.

Once they had decided to find the mirror, to get a glance at you, they knew there was no turning back. Fred and George knew full well that this could very well drive them further into a pit of desire for you from which they couldn’t crawl out of.

At least not until they met you in person.

But they had to. They had to take this chance before they lost their chance to glance at the mirror, before they left Hogwarts to start their joke shop.

Who knew when the next opportunity to catch a glimpse of you would happen?

The last known location of the mirror was the room of requirement. The very room they’d used to study defense against the dark arts in secrecy. The very room that Umbridge had broken into to shut down Dumbledore’s Army. That was their destination, and that was the place where they could see you.

They saw the mirror the moment they stepped inside the room of requirement. The mirror they were seeking sat alone in the middle of the room, with no other object in the room except the mirror.

The frame of the mirror seemed like it was made of solid gold, with three separate turrets sticking out of the curved top. Beneath the three turrets was an encryption carved in the gold frame, which when read backwards said’ I show not your face but your heart’s desire’.

“Ready Fred?” George glanced at his twin, brown eyes meeting brown eyes.

“Born ready, George.” Fred confirmed before standing before the mirror.

He watched and waited as the mirror seemed to take a moment to work, to show him his deepest desires, and then an image appeared.

“George…” Fred reached out and touched the mirror, their soulmate appearing in the mirror.

“Merlin…” George stepped up to the mirror, glancing at the same image as Fred.

In the mirror was your image, though you weren’t still. You were moving about a room with a book in your left hand, and a pen in your right. You were mumbling to yourself while pacing around the small room, your eyes focused on the words in the book.

“She’s beautiful.” Fred pressed his palm flat against the mirror, almost swearing that instead of touching cool glass, he felt the warmth of your skin against his.

“She’s bloody perfect.” George couldn’t pull his eyes off of you.

Your long hair was haphazardly thrown up into a messy bun, your tresses tangled in with each other, hiding what you’d used to keep your hair up. You looked like you were around 5’5”, though it was hard to tell through the mirror, still that was almost an entire foot shorter than the twins.

When you had turned toward the mirror and raised your head from the book you were reading, Fred took note of your eyes being neither a true hazel nor a true green. Your eyes appeared to be amber or gold, and entirely too captivating.

George was the next to touch the mirror, the next to feel heat instead of cool glass. When he had placed his palm flush against the mirror, you had moved again.

You came closer to the mirror, your eyes narrowed and your eyebrows furrowed. You closed your book and set it down out of sight before you got as close to the mirror as physically possible and then you leaned in, as if you could see them staring at you.

“Hello…?” you raised your hand and knocked on the glass, the sound echoing in the empty room.

♡♡ ♡♡

You were doing some late night reading when you heard voices. You were just trying to get yourself exhausted for bed when you heard distant whispering, two voices speaking from somewhere in the room, but muffled and muddled.

It wasn’t until you had stopped pacing and tuned your ears into the noise that you picked up on the whispering coming from your mirror.

Before you started to investigate, you closed your book and set it down. You shuffled toward the mirror with pursed lips and furrowed brows, wondering if it was all in your head or whether you were actually hearing what you thought you had.

Once you were in front of the mirror, you leaned in and raised your hand, knocking against the glass.

“Hello…?” You called out expecting an answer, even though it would’ve been insane for someone to answer.

And you secretly hoped they hadn’t. You didn’t think you could handle it if you heard a reply.

“You’re going crazy, Y/N.” You told yourself, stepping back from the mirror. “There’s no one behind the mirror or in the mirror.”

You grabbed your book and turned around, striding to the small double bed you had against the far wall. You threw your book on the mattress and had started getting ready for bed, deciding that was enough studying for you, when you glanced back over your shoulder.

“Just in case…” You picked up a spare blanket from the floor and quickly threw it over the mirror, feeling a moment of relief.

Once the mirror was covered, you lift the covers of your bed and dove underneath. You rest your head against the pillow and closed your eyes, waiting and hopeful for a message from your soulmates.

But one never came.


	5. Chapter 4

Fred and George found themselves at the mirror of Erised again a week later. The few days that had passed between the first time they saw you and now had seemed like a lifetime of yearning and longing.

The first sight of you had made them thirsty for more. Which was explainable when you had a voice in your head singing and subjecting them to your music. The voice that belonged to their soulmate was a mystery until they went to the mirror of Erised as a last resort.

They hadn’t known if it would work because you weren’t from their universe, but rather one that was similar. So similar that you had shared music, muggle music of course.

Not only had they been able to see you, but apparently you could hear them. You could hear their voices through the mirror and that felt life-changing. To anyone else it would seem insignificant and ordinary, but to Fred and George this is what they’d been waiting for.

Like the first time they had come to the room of requirement, the mirror of Erised was standing alone in the room. The gold frame was catching the soft light of candles throughout the room, bringing attention to the inscription carved at the top of the mirror.

Fred stepped up to the mirror first with George behind him and to the right, just like he had the first time, his warm brown eyes fixated on the mirror waiting for your image to show up.

They only had to wait a sliver of time before your image had shown up in the mirror like they expected. You were on your bed sitting cross-legged in a deep red hoodie and a pair of dark jeans shorts that showed off your smooth legs and thighs.

Your hair was thrown up in the same kind of haphazard bun piled high on your head. You had a thick book in your lap and a bright coloured pen in one hand that you were steadily tapping against the edge of the book.

You had a look of concentration on your face, your eyebrows furrowed. Every so often you would rip the cap of the bright pen off and drug the edge against the book before placing it back on the end of the pen.

“Hello beautiful.” Fred spoke to you, thoroughly enjoying the way your head snapped up and your eyes grew in size.

“Need some company?” George added with a smirk on his face.

After your initial shock had worn off, you threw your book to the side and bound off the bed. You had almost tripped over a discarded show, catching yourself at the last minute before you stopped in front of the mirror.

“You’re here.” You spoke in disbelief and relief. “I didn’t think this would actually work.”

A smile, faint and hesitant, formed on your face. You had reached out to touch the surface of the mirror with your fingertips, eyes moving around the surface as if you were trying to picture them on the other side.

“If we knew you were waiting-“ Fred piped up.

“-we would’ve come sooner.” George finished for him.

The sound you made next was a cross between a snort and a bite of laughter. You had covered your mouth with your hand as your eyes lit up. They could see the smile behind your hand from the way your cheeks moved and stretched.

“Wow. That's…” You shook your head and dropped your hand back down to your side.

“Pathetic?” George asked.

“Weak?” Fred quipped.

“Little bit of both.” You leaned into the mirror and tapped the glass with your knuckle.

“You can really see me huh? And hear me?” Your eyes moved around the edge of the mirror before settling back on the center.

“Only when we’re at the mirror.” Fred reassured.

“We’re not watching you when you sleep, love.” George took after Fred and offered you some reassurance, easing some of the tension in your shoulders.

“God, I wish I could see you.” You frowned. “I don’t even know where to look in this thing.”

George moved his attention beyond you to quickly study what he could see in your room.

Beside your bed was a wooden nightstand with a large lamp that had been plugged into the socket but not turned on, and underneath the lamp was a rectangle object that kept lighting up and ringing a short tune.

To the right of the nightstand was a small bookshelf crammed to the brim with books. Some of the spines were cracked and damaged from overuse, while others had bright coloured paper sticking out of the tops.

It was clear that you loved reading, and had read often, though George couldn’t make out the names of the books from the other side of the mirror.

“What’s your name, love?” Fred crossed his arms over his chest, taking the opportunity they had to get some details out of you.

“Y/N L/N. I am currently 19 years old and in university studying to get my degree as a registered nurse. I’m in my first year of schooling and have more studying than I’d like to do which makes me want to pull my hair out.” You spout some facts about yourself, going above what the twins expected.

“As you probably figured out, I’m terrified of spiders and those nasty little things that screech and squirm with the…” You placed your hand above your head to mimic the foliage growing out of a mandrake’s head.

“Mandrake.” Fred answered for you.

“Those are disgusting.” You shuddered and then continued speaking. “I am not a fan of heights and I’d rather keep my feet on the ground but I do enjoy flying.”

When you mentioned flying, Fred and George had immediately thought of quidditch. They wondered if your would like it or if you would feel insecure and frightened as if you were going to fall off.

They would like to take you once you were together, take you high above the quidditch pitch so you could see the views of Hogwarts and the mountains surrounding the school.

“Don’t be shy love,” Fred encouraged you, “tell us everything.”

♡♡ ♡♡

You talked for hours. You talked about your whole lives like you were all sitting in the same room together, like there wasn’t a slip of distance between you all.

You learned that Fred and George had 4 other brothers and one sister. You learned that Fred and George were the only real pranksters of their family and that it was their dream to open their own joke shop.

You learned that they were 17 almost 18, a little less than a year younger than you. Fred was the more outgoing if the two and the one who took charge more often than not while George was the one who usually smoothed things over.

They had learned that you loved to read, judging from your bookshelf and your many textbooks that were required reading. One of your favourite colours was royal blue, dark and deep while your other favorite colour was similar to the red of their uniforms.

They asked you if you preferred lions or badgers, snakes or ravens which hadn’t made sense to you but you chose the lions and the badgers anyway.

By the time the hours spent talking were up, you were exhausted. You could barely keep your eyes open and it seemed as though every minute that passed you had yawned and then yawned again.

“You look knackered, darling.” Fred spoke quietly, his voice a soft whisper.

“I feel-” you covered your mouth with your hand and yawned, “-tired.”

You closed your eyes and ran your hand down your face, feeling the full effects of your tiredness. You wanted so badly to crawl into bed, so badly to curl up beneath your sheets and fall into a deep sleep but you couldn’t tear yourself away from them.

“That’s our cue to leave, George.” Fred stood and dusted himself off.

“Goodnight princess.” George stood from where he sat, gave you a wink before he depart the mirror, dragging Fred with him.

You yawned again, waving to the twins even if you couldn’t see them. When you were sure they were gone, you moved back toward your bed. You crawled under the covers and rest your head on your pillow, your thoughts immediately going toward your twins.

And it was your twins that helped you fall asleep that night.

All while you were blissfully unaware of a pulsing light, soft and ethereal radiating from your mirror.


	6. Chapter 5

The moment your eyes opened, the moment you were able to comprehend your surroundings, you knew you were not in your room nor in your apartment.

Instead of a small sliding door to the left of your bed leading to a small concrete patio, there was towering arched stone walls and a row of candles illuminated on the wall.

Instead of your bed’s headboard against the load bearing wall, and an overstuffed bookcase and your night stand, there was a large golden mirror immediately behind you with a curved arch and three turrets.

_Hello, hello_

_I’m not where I’m supposed to be_

_I hope that you’re missing me_

_‘Cause it makes me feel young_

The little snippet of the song that best fit your situation was ringing loudly in your head as you scrambled to stand. Once you had stood and turned to the mirror, you saw a glimpse of your bedroom, though it was very rapidly replaced by an image of the twins.

“What the hell?” You slowly did a 360 degree turn, wide eyes taking in every single detail that you could while you could.

Stone walls and a stone floor, high arches and a row of candles on each side of the room. A towering golden framed mirror that had shown an image of the Weasley twins, your twins had not made up the space of your apartment.

You were confused, so confused. Where were you? What happened to you? Were you dreaming?

“What the hell is going on?” You muttered in disbelief, your eyes scoping out the room again until they settled on a door leading out.

You jogged toward the thick wooden door with reinforced metal trimmings and twist the handle, pulling it open. It’s creak had broken any silence, though you didn’t truly feel like you were on edge until you stepped out of the room into a hallway that was also stone and cold.

To your left was a hallway that eventually cut back to the left, and to the right was another hallway that eventually lead to what looked like a staircase. With your options in front of you, you chose to go to the right and down the staircase, wincing at the cold stone floor every time you moved your feet.

You took that first step at the top of the staircase, your hand sliding down the railing on the right side with each consecutive step. You had at first thought you were entirely alone wherever you were, but as you got further down the staircase and onto the lower floor, you began to hear voices.

They started out hushed and quiet, though the closer you got the louder and more frequent they became. When you had turned a corner, you came into view of students wearing a uniform of dark blue and bronze coloured ties and trimmed robes.

The few you saw were carrying books tucked under their arms and bags with a strange emblem stitched onto their bags either hanging off their shoulders or across their chests.

“I’m not dreaming. This is too realistic to be a dream.” That was your mantra. Over and over again all you could tell yourself was that it was a dream, it had to be.

“Wake up.” You pinched your arm. “Wake up.”

Had you snapped? Had you gone completely mental?

The students wearing dark blue and bronze had otherwise ignored your presence, or they had shot you dirty looks but no one had yet to speak to you.

Even as you stood in the middle of the floor completely barefoot wearing a pair of short jean shorts and an oversized hoodie, they had looked at you like you had two heads but no one spoke to you.

“You’re not dreaming.” An airy voice, fantastical in nature, came from your left. “Though you are missing your shoes. Did you know that?”

You snapped your head in her direction, your eyebrows furrowing. Your lips formed a frown, a natural reaction to the girl who was talking to you wearing the same black uniform with blue and bronze tie.

She was a rather petite girl with long, almost white, curly blonde hair that had cascaded down her back. Her eyes were bright, big and blue though there was something odd about her, something strange.

“What?” You questioned her.

“Your shoes. Did you know you’re not wearing any?” She questioned you just as airily and fantastical as she had before.

You were confused by her question because you hadn’t thought that you not wearing shoes was the biggest problem right now. Your biggest problems were not knowing where in the hell you were, how you got here and how you could get back.

To name a few.

“Yes.” You answered slowly.

“Did someone steal your shoes?” She tilt her head, her ethereal eyes looking you up and down from head to toe. “I haven’t seen you before. Are you a transfer?”

You glanced around the floor you were standing in at all the students who were passing you and this odd girl by, like this was a regular day for you. As your eyes swept across the mass of stone walls and candles, you saw a full bodied apparition, clear as day and more solid than you had ever seen, walking through the wall.

“That was a ghost “ You spoke plainly.

“Oh yes. They tend to do that.” The blonde girl told you, leaning in closer to you. “They’re awful mischievous those ghosts.”

Your confusion kept growing. You were puzzled, less sure that this wall all in your head or some lucid dream, and more weary of it being real. Reality warped and changed.

“Where am I?” You asked the blonde girl.

“Have you lost your memory as well? Nargles I suspect.” She whispered the word ‘nargles’ like it was some secret, and then she answered your question. “You’re in Hogwarts.”

She spoke like you should’ve just known what that was. She said the name of the place you were in, Hogwarts, like that should’ve explained everything. However it raised more questions than it answered, and you were left with a dull yet throbbing headache starting at the forefront of your head.

“Hogwarts.” You mumbled. “What is Hogwarts?”

You took a slow, deep breath and then exhaled slowly. You didn’t know where you were or what you were doing here but if this was connected in anyway to Fred and George Weasley then it wouldn’t hurt to ask if the strange girl new them.

“Do you…” you paused. “Do you know Fred and George Weasley? And where I could find them?”

At the mention of your twins names, the odds girls face lit up and a bright welcoming smile graced her face. She tucked a book you didn’t know she was holding into her bag and then started walking slowly.

“I know Fred and George. I can show you where they are.” She motioned for you to follow her.

You jogged to catch up with her and followed her down the hallway to a series of stairs that extended in all directions. The odd girl with the blonde hair stepped onto a platform and wait for you, and after you had stepped on, the platform rumbled and shook before ultimately starting to move.

“What the hell is that?” You gripped the stone railing like your life depended on, wide eyes watching the world spin.

“Those are the moving staircases. You need to be careful on them. Last year a first year fidget catch it in time and almost fell off.” She acted like this was the most normal occurrence in the world, like there was nothing wrong with moving staircases and ghosts walking through walls and moving portraits.

“I’m living a nightmare.” You needed to wake up. It had to be a dream.

“You’re not having a nightmare. If you were the colours would be darker.” She spoke over her shoulder before continuing on her way when the platform stopped moving.

“Fred and George are this way.” She practically skipped down the hall.

The further you got, the more populated the crowds had become, with various ages turning their heads to look at you and the blonde girl. Some of them looked quite interested in you, either for your presence there or your choice of clothing, like you were some fever dream.

And you honestly felt like it.

Other students weren’t so pleased with you. Some students wearing silver and green colours were looking at you like you were the scum of the earth, their noses turned up and their lips screwed into a scowl.

“This can’t be happening.” You mumbled, following your guide down another set of stairs before you approached a set of massive double doors, that seemed to stretch from ceiling to floor.

Inside the massive room which was wide as it was long, sat 4 rows of tables, each with a banner hanging above each table.

The first table’s colours were yellow and black, their banner had an image of a badger with the name Hufflepuff scrawled across the top. The table next to that held the dark blue and bronze, their banner had the image of an eagle with the name Ravenclaw.

The last two tables were green and silver, named Slytherin and a snake on its banner. The last table to the right had the colours that you had recognized many times before in the images and memories Fred and George had shared. The red and gold colours were also on the banner hanging above the table with an image of a lion and the name Gryffindor.

You stood at the entrance of the massive room, jaw dropped and eyes blow wide. Not only were there ghosts wandering freely in the room, but there were floating candles held without any string or line of any sorts, nor a shelf. They were floating freely, without any constraints to keep them from falling.

Everything seemed…magical. But that couldn’t be possible.

“There they are!” The blonde girl with the Ravenclaw robes point to the Gryffindor table where Fred and George were sitting with their backs to you, hunched over a whole table full of food.

“Thanks.” There were so many students of all different ages in all different colours of uniforms, but all you could focus on was Fred and George.

Fred and George Weasley were at the center of the whole situation, they were your key to figuring everything out.

“Fred and George..” You mumbled and started walking down the split in the middle of the four tables.

You could feel eyes on you coming from all directions, watching your every move until you came to the spot at the Gryffindor table where Fred and George were sitting.

When you stopped behind them you took note of the three people sitting across from Fred and George, two boys and a girl who were all looking at you skeptically.

The girl’s bushy hair was brushed behind her ears and secured in a half pony, her eyes narrowed in your direction. One of the boys with red hair to match Fred and George and fair Green eyes, glanced at you and then your twins.

“You’ll never believe who’s here…” He spoke to them, and then nudged his head in your direction.

As Fred and George turned their heads, you shift your weight from foot to foot, your palms gripping the ends of your hoodie sleeves while you bit the inside of your cheek.

Your stomach felt like it was in knots, only worsened by the twins casting their gazes upon you, deep confusion and mystification written all over their faces.

“Y/N? What are you doing here love?” George asked.

“I honestly have no idea.” And you answered truthfully.


	7. Chapter 6

Fred had turned completely, his back pressed against the edge of the table, his brown eyes sweeping over the woman in front of them, standing in an oversized sweater and a pair of blue jeans shorts that exposed your legs and thighs.

And your bare feet.

The whispers began shortly after, the hushed mumbling worked through the crowds of students as eyes all yielded toward their soulmate standing in the middle of the Great Hall. The appearance of their soulmate would’ve been questionable enough for the students and professor’s, but then your sudden appearance at Hogwarts when you had never been sent before raised even more questions.

“I have no idea what I’m doing here.” You spoke, grabbing your hoodie in an attempt to pull it down to cover yourself up further.

“I don’t even know where here is.” You hissed, tugging on your sweater again.

“It’ll be okay.” George mumbled as he stood and shrugged off his Gryffindor robe.

As he held it in his hands, he moved to stand behind you. He placed his robe around your shoulders, grabbing his wand from the pocket before he helped secure it with the small clasp near the front. It had helped hide the exposure of your legs and had all but swallowed you.

“Haven’t you got anything better to do?” Fred took a rather serious attitude as he snapped at all the students staring.

“Sit down.” George grabbed your hand and helped you sit between himself and Fred. “How did you get here? Where did you come from?”

“You need to speak to Dumbledore about this before the ministry takes action.” Hermione leaned in and whispered. “If Umbridge sends word to Fudge-“

“That won’t happen, Hermione.” Harry spoke up, his green eyes bouncing from Fred and George to the stranger.

“What the hell is going on?” You cut them off, your hands clenching on the table. “I was asleep in my apartment and when I woke up I was in the middle of a room laying in front of this mirror-”

“The mirror of Erised?” Hermione interrupted, her eyebrows furrowing and a frown on her face.

“What’s the problem, Granger?” Fred had pushed closer to you, and along with George, had almost shielded you from the whispers.

“The mirror of Erised doesn’t just show you what you desire most.” Hermione glanced down toward the professor’s table, their own whispers drawing attention.

“The mirror? The same mirror we used to talk?” You had first glanced at George and then Fred.

“How long have you been talking?” Hermione leaned forward over the table.

“What does that matter, Granger?” Fred countered, his hand slipping beneath the table to rest on your knee.

“Can someone please tell me what is going on?!” You slammed your fist against the table, a rush of silence taking over the hall.

“Fred, George-“ Professor McGonagall approached the table, her lips pursed. “Come with me, please. Bring the girl.”

She brushed past them, followed by Snape. They tore out of the great hall with urgency, leaving more than just whispered behind in their wake. There were questions that needed to be answered but couldn’t, at least not by Fred and George, and certainly not by you.

“We need you to come with us.” George whispered in your ear, reaching for and grabbing your hand.

“I’m not going anywhere until someone tells me where I am and what is going on.” You sat firmly, unwilling to move.

“You’re at Hogwarts school for witchcraft and wizardry.” Hermione piped up, standing as she did so.

“Didn’t think they called you, Granger.” Fred spoke coolly.

“Well clearly someone with half a brain between them needs to be there.” She snapped and pulled her bag off the bench. “You’ll get your answers if you follow them. Trust me.”

Hermione turned on her heel and stalked out of the great hall after McGonagall and Snape. After she had left, you reluctantly stood from where you sat, yanking the robe tighter around yourself.

“Just follow Fred, love.” George nod his head, walking behind you as you shuffled after Fred.

Bare feet and all.

♡♡ ♡♡

“I’m going insane.” You closed your eyes and massaged your temples. “I’ve fallen into a coma and this is a dream. A nightmare.”

“You’re not dreaming.” The girl called Hermione, spoke from the other side of Fred.

“That’s what the little bleach blonde…Ravenclaw told me.” You hungry your head and screwed your eyes tight, the same familiar headache at the base of your skull spreading.

“Luna Lovegood?” Hermione questioned you but you didn’t get a chance to answer.

“You’ve been communicating through the mirror of Erised.” A man appeared at the front of the room, a set of light blue robes with silver thread adorned his body, while his length white beard cascaded down the front.

On his head was a boxy cap made out of the same blue with silver threads, symbols etched into the fabric. He was watching you with bright aged blue eyes and a small smile.

“I think the mirror is the reason she is here, sir.” Hermione spoke knowingly.

“’She’ has a name.” You snapped at the girl, again, your patience and headache causing your crankiness. “And she would like to know what is going on before her head explodes.”

“My name is Altus Dumbledore, Miss L/N.” The man in the blue robes spoke with gentility.

“You are at Hogwarts school for witchcraft and wizardry, pulled through the veil separating your universe, which is in itself almost a mirror of this own, from our own. You were pulled by the desires of your soulmates and yourself.” He spoke to all of you, evenly and calmly like he hadn’t a care in the world.

“The mirror of Erised-”

“Aided by the mirror of Erised, of course.” Dumbledore gave credit to Hermione, though his answer hadn’t made your mood any better.

“Your telling me that I was pulled from an alternative universe to this one, which is apparently similar enough to yours, but there’s magic in this one? Not just like little kid stuff but actual magic?” You spoke with disbelief.

“Your own universe has magic in itself, though it is much more hidden and subdued. The people of your universe were afraid of the magic that could be used to influence the events of the world and so it was almost completely destroyed.” He explained in a way that made so much sense, yet it left you with a thousand questions.

“So there’s magic in my universe, it’s small but its there.” You exhaled slowly, trying to calm yourself. “And now…being here, the magic is much more powerful.”

“Did you not have children’s stories about magic? Fairies and godmother who cast spells on pumpkins? Who bewitched kings and queens? Cast curses on sleeping princesses?”

“Cinderella’s godmother turned a pumpkin into a carriage and mice into horses to pull the carriage. Maleficent cursed the spinning wheel to throw the kingdom into a deep sleep for 100 years. The fairies fought to change the colour of the dress until it became pink and blue.” You recalled.

“But those were just stories!” You protest what he was saying, it couldn’t be true. “They were fairytale’s meant to make children believe in-“

“Magic.” Dumbledore confirmed. “Those aren’t just tall tales. They are real accountants before magic was squandered.”

To prove his point, he waved his wand and without a sliver of hesitation, a cup sitting on the desk had turned into a mouse. The silver cup became a silver mouse complete with fuzzy ears and a long tail, a soft underbelly and a pair of black eyes.

“Oh my God…” You covered your mouth with your hands, eyes blown wide. “That's…incredible.”

“The mirror of Erised had pulled you through the veil though I’m afraid that the surprised don’t stop there, Miss L/N.” Dumbledore leaned back against his desk.

There was silence given to you to process what had happened and what you had heard.

“She’s not a muggle is she, sir?” Hermione finally broke the silence.

“No, I’m afraid she isn’t.” Dumbledore cleared his throat, stole your attention again.

“When you were pulled through the veil and the mirror, the magic that is within you was awoken. It was hidden and not able to flourish in your universe, but here it will thrive.” He spoke so plainly, leaving no room for debate.

“You’re a person with magical abilities.” Dumbledore directed his attention toward the two black cloaked people in the room.

“We will need to inform Sirius and Molly, then we will arrange to have Miss L/N allocated to 12 Grimmauld Place. Fred and George will be given temporary leave until she is settled.” He spoke to the man and the woman, then turned to your twins.

“I really wish you the best here in this universe, Miss L/N.” He smiled your way. “And may I say, it is great to finally meet you.”


	8. Chapter 7

Your first impression of Molly Weasley, the saint who was Fred and George’s mom, was that she was probably the most loving mom you had ever crossed. Not only was she the most motherly woman you had ever seen before, in your life, she was as Weasley as any of the Weasley’s you seen in Fred and George’s memories.

Molly Weasley was on the shorter side of the Weasley spectrum, standing about 5’3”, only two inches shorter than you. She was a woman of southeast, healthily filled out after having so many children and so many children who apparently caused her great grief some days.

Her curly red hair was graying at the roots, only slightly, though it hadn’t lost any luster or thickness. Her eyes were the same shade of brown as Fred and George’s with the same warmth that was comforting and endearing.

“It’s so nice to meet you dear.” Molly had hugged you the moment you stumbled out of the fireplace you had been transported in, cupping your cheeks after your face had paled. “You’ll get used to the feeling of being transported after the first few times you floo.”

“I’m Molly Weasley?” she smiled warmly. “Fred and George’s mum.”

At the mention of their names, Fred and George had appeared behind you. Fred, on your left, wiped some floo powder and dust off of your cheek while George who was on your right, wrapped and arm around your waist.

“She’s a witch, mum.” Fred spoke. “Dumbledore confirmed it at Hogwarts.”

“Needs a wand.” George continued.

“This is Diagon Alley?” Between waking up in another universe at a school for magic, using floo powder to transport yourself from Hogwarts, and the arrival in a place that was full of other magic users, was almost proving too much for you.

“No dear,” Molly pat your cheek, “this is the Leaky Cauldron. Diagon Alley is through the door.”

Molly directed your attention to the thick wooden door at the end of the pub, reinforced by metal hinges. The door was closed at the moment with an old wooden knocker hanging in the middle of the door. There were various people around the pub, though there was only one of them who was wearing a traditional witch hat, the same one who had really reminded you of a stereotypical witch.

“It’s a place for witches and wizards to get anything.” George began.

“And everything.” Fred finished.

“So…like Walmart.” You hummed, feeling their stares after you spoke.

“What is Walmart?” George whispered in your ear, gently pulling you along behind their mom as she moved toward the door leading to the alley behind the pub.

“Walmart is a muggle box chain store in America. It has everything you need under one roof.” You hadn’t adjusted to being in the Wizarding world, not nearly.

You had only been here for 6 hours, and for all 6 hours you felt like your head was about to explode. Everywhere you looked there was someone, in some manner, doing some kind of magic with their wands.

When you stepped into the alley with Molly and Fred and George, you didn’t know where to look first. Everywhere you looked there was someone using magic in ways you never thought possible, with creatures beyond your wildest imagination.

Owls in cages were being carted around, floating behind their owners by magic that seemed beyond the realm of possibilities. There were creatures, small and blue in Golden cages floating amongst themselves while squealing and screeching.

There was a man nearly 8 feet tall with a bushy, white heard stomping around outside a shop stall, a few wrapped packages in his hands. He was staring down at a woman in a stiff black witch hat, his face flushed and reddened in either embarrassment or anger.

A woman passed by reading a book that was floating in front of her, while a few trunks were floating behind her. A small Woodlake creature was sitting on her shoulder trilling a melodic tune with its green leaves and wooden limbs.

“This is amazing.” You mumbled with wide eyes, a state of disbelief settling in. “Everything is…”

Your head whipped around, eyes fixating and focused on a creature Fred and George called a mandrake, shrieking away as it was moved from one pot to a deeper, larger pot. Once it was planted, you could see the deep green leaves waving softly as it nestled into its new home.

“I can’t believe its real.” You took a step away from Fred and George, and Molly, toward a stand of shrunken heads off to your left.

You reached out to touch the shrunken heads for pure curiosity and wonderment, your fingertips just about to graze the heads, when your hand was pulled back and you were physically pulled away from the stall.

“Don’t go near those.” Fred held you against him. “You never know what curse had been put on those.”

When you had been escorted back to George and Molly, there were a few packages in each of their hands all wrapped in brown paper and twine. Molly had glanced at a piece of paper in her hand with black inked chicken scratch notes on the thick aged paper.

“Off to get a wand then.” Molly smiled at yourself and Fred. “George and I have got everything else you need. Though we shouldn’t dally. Looks like it’s about to rain.”

“Olivander’s makes the best wands. Everyone gets their wands there.” George twirled his wand around his fingers, a few sparks flying from the tip of his wand.

“You just go in there and choose one from a shelf?” You followed Molly, eyes bouncing around the different shops as you walked.

You could see the uniforms that had matched the ones Fred and George had while attending school, though the ones behind the window were plain black without any emblem or various colours of the different houses. On the other side of the shop behind the window was a formal dress, a beautiful and sparkling formal dress with a long train that was gathered at the right hip and held with a diamond broach.

“Madame Malkin’s robes for all occasions.” Fred exclaimed while you stared. “Got our first uniforms there.”

Fred was nostalgic as he spoke, his eyes following the shop until you had passed onto the next.

“The wand chooses you.” George nudged you gently. “There’s only room for one or two people in there.”

When you had turned your attention to the newest shop, you saw a tiny, shop with curved glass windows and a mass of shelves shoved inside the shop that looked like they were about to fall over if even the smallest breeze blew through. On the shelves were hundreds, maybe thousands of slim boxes crammed into the shelves until there was sparsely an inch of space left.

“This is Olivander’s?” You asked both Fred and George, looking at one and then the other.

“Greatest wand maker ever known.” Fred nod and nudged you forward. “Go on, love. Georgie said he’d go with you.”

You were glad for it. You had squeezed George’s hand rather tightly as you followed him inside. You were frightened of more than just choosing a wand. You were frightened of how much you didn’t know about this world and how to navigate it.

You were afraid of this part of you that didn’t seem real, didn’t seem natural. What Dumbledore said made sense, it really did, but it didn’t seem like it could be true.

Had Fred and George’s desire for you and your desire from them, actually pull you into their universe and awaken some magic you didn’t even knew you had?

Apparently so.

“I’m scared.” You whispered to George, eyes moving from shelf to shelf.

“I’m right here. I’m here for you.” George squeezed your hand like you’d squeezed his, standing firmly by your side.


	9. Chapter 8

“Alohomora.” The charm was simple, a way to unlock doors if you didn’t have a key or if you wanted to be more secretive or quicker.

“She’s cute when she tries.” Fred spoke up first, the crinkle in his nose was slight and barely noticeable, but it was a signature physical trait that you grew to love after seeing it time and time again in their memories.

“It’s like watching a 1st year.” George quipped with a grin, watching you from the bed with his arms stretched out behind him.

You flashed him a look out of the corner of your eyes, your mouth pressed in a firm line. You gripped your wand a little too firmly, determined to get the charm that seemed so simple to them, all of them, though was so foreign to you.

“Ha ha.” You deadpanned. “Make fun of me when I just found out I was a witch. Classy.”

You rolled your eyes and raised your wand, pointing the end toward the locked door. Fred and George had been helping you try this charm for the last little while, close to an hour or two, with little luck.

It was an error mostly on your end. You were getting frustrated by trying to use a charm when you could walk toward the door and unlock it. You knew that wasn’t the point, you knew that there was more to it than that, but you had spent the last 19/20 years without magic.

“Don’t like this.” You muttered and cast the charm again, the end of your magic sparking with magic, though nothing came of it.

After your latest failed attempt, George began chuckling from the bed. His brown eyes were alight with admiration and adoration, along with great pleasure from your frustration.

You wanted to kick him. Or kiss him. Maybe both.

“If looks could kill, Georgie…” Fred came to stand behind you, the fingertips on his right hand brushing against the back of your right hand.

“At least I’d die by the most captivating eyes in all of London.” George winked playfully.

“Well could you help me? Because my previous…muggle..?” You searched for the word, getting confirmation in the form of a thumbs up from George that you’d gotten the right one. “I’m about to lose it.”

Fred laughed from behind you, the tumble in his chest felt against your back when he stood flush against you. He wasted no time in wrapping his left arm around your waist to hold you securely against him, while he wrapped his right hand around yours to adjust your grip on your wand.

“As much as we would love to see you lose your cool darling,” Fred crooned in your ear, “let’s save the tantrum for another day.”

He adjusted your grip ever so slightly and then he moved your wand the way it should’ve. He started forming almost an entire circle before he dropped the tip of wand while whispering the word ‘alohomora’ into your ear.

Almost instantly, the door lock clicked as it became unlocked. The door had all but swung open from the simple charm. The act captivating you until you felt Fred’s lips brush against the shell of your ear. That simple act and the tightening of his arm around your waist had made you turn in his embrace.

You faced him head on with just the tips of your noses brushing. You were captivated by his warm brown eyes and his half-smirk on his face. You were enthralled by everything that encompassed Fred Weasley from the slight hook in his nose to his penchant for never being able to keep anything to himself.

There you see her, sitting there across the way

She don’t got a lot to say but there’s something about her

And you don’t why but you’re dying to try, you wanna kiss the girl

As the song that popped into your head resonated with Fred, you watched the expression on his face deepen. His lips were stretched back in a rather cocky smirk, his brown eyes crinkling at the corner as he leaned in toward you.

“Want me to kiss you, darling?” His arm still resting around your waist, had pulled you completely flush against him.

Your wand fell from your hand and clattered to the floor when your hands moved up his chest to the collar of his shirt. Your fingers brushed against the buttons on the collar of his shirt, eyes roaming the bold stripes of the worn cotton button down he wore.

You could pick up on the faint scent of fireworks and almost overly sweet trailings of handmade candy and chocolate, no doubt related to their jokes and pranks. Beyond the scent of fireworks and candy and sweets, was the clean and crisp scent of fresh laundry dried in the sun.

“Go on and kiss the girl.” You mumbled as you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. The caress of flesh against flesh, his lips against your own, was soft and tender, gentle and apprehensive.

The tender touch of his hands at your waist and his warmth radiating, made you stumble and fall. You were unable to grapple with the reality that came crashing down on you like a hurricane seeking destruction of any and all barrier that you had ever tried to keep up.

Kissing Fred Weasley was binding your souls together in a never-ending knot, in a chain so powerful and true, it felt as if nothing would be able to pull you apart.

An audible click of a lock behind you had stolen your attention, however briefly. It had been enough to make you pull away from Fred to glance over your shoulder.

Your eyes were quick to meet George’s gaze, his eyes flashing and burning with the same feverous emotions that had taken hold of Fred. He was staring at you, studying you with intent to consume wholly, like Fred.

You hadn’t been here long, you hadn’t been with them a whole 3 weeks, but that was more than enough time. You felt as though you knew them better than you knew yourself, your soulmates that could hear every song, every piece of music you listened to.

“All that work just for you to go and lock the door again.” You spoke while George took calculated steps toward you.

“Can’t have someone barging in.” George crooned with a handsome half-smirk on his face.

“What do you think’s going to happen?” You whispered with a shudder, feeling Fred’s fingertips dragging across your abdomen near the waist and of your jeans.

George glanced toward his twin before he looked at you, an unspoken understanding between them about what to do with you.

Or what they would do first.

“There’s a few things you can’t learn in those books Granger got you.” Fred’s husky voice drew another shiver from you.

“I think there’s more than a few.” You locked eyes with George, unable to pull your attention off of the second half of the Weasley twins, even as Fred started trailing his lips up and down the right side of your neck.

You tilt your head to the left, giving Fred more access to you as he teased your neck, as he kissed and nipped and licked your flesh. You gave him as much access as he needed, while your gaze was locked on George.

“I always thought I was an eager student.” You teased, your hands reaching for and grabbing George as he came into reach of you.

You reached for George, grabbed firmly onto his same striped shirt and pulled him into you with the same despair and desperation to feel him pressed against you as Fred was.

** **

“Mooooorning.” And extended ‘or’ was added to the simple greeting as the bed dipped and a hand snaked across your bare waist.

You shivered and pushed yourself further against the firm bare chest behind you. With your back pressed tight against either Fred or George’s bare chest, and a hand snaking across your bare waist, you were being torn between waking up and falling back into a slumber.

“Another day of lessons for the baby witch.” It was George who was touching your bare waist while sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Its Saturday.” You mumbled and rolled over, your palms pressed flush against Fred’s bare chest. “No school on Saturday.”

You felt the rumble of Fred’s laughter as he brushed your hair behind your ear, and whispered just soft enough to further stir you from sleep.

“It’d Thursday, love.” He hadn’t let you go until a knock on the door tore him away from you.

Fred groaned and sat up, shifting toward the edge of the bed so he could slip a pair of pants on his legs. Once he was partially dressed, the door swung open and the matriarch of the Weasley family came striding into the room.

“Fred and George Weasley!” Molly placed her hands on her hips, shooting a stern look toward her two sons. “Just because the two of you have a few weeks off of school doesn’t mean you get to laze about!”

Her attention slipped from Fred and George, to you. Her expression softened and she chose a rather kind temperament as she clapped her hands. “Of course I’m not blaming you, dear.”

You rolled into your other side, tucking the blanket up under your chin. With sleep stuck in your tear duct, you covered your mouth with your hand and yawned into your palm. Fred and George had depart the bed, though Fred’s side was still warm and inviting.

“Are you hungry dear? There’s breakfast and a pot of tea on the table.” Molly still addressed you with gentleness. “Once your done, your defence against the dark arts lesson will begin with Remus and Sirius.”

When her attention slipped back to Fred and George, she shot them a stern warning look before she turned on her heel and left the room rather quickly.


End file.
